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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23965018">The Misadventures of the Other Timeline</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellophia/pseuds/Stellophia'>Stellophia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Other Timeline [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cats, Crack, Crack and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is chaotic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, He is an Idiot Though, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Loki &amp; Tony Stark Friendship, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki and Tony are Chaotic and I love them, Memes, Protective Thor (Marvel), Science, Science Bros, Science Kids, Steve and Bucky and Sam being chaotic, SteveFam being chaotic, The Brodinsons are Chaotic, The Revengers are Chaotic, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trash Science, Vines, there's a difference</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:27:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23965018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellophia/pseuds/Stellophia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The timeline has been altered, Infinity War is cancelled, and our favourite heroes are all alive.</p><p>You know what that means? Loads and loads of Domestic Fluff. And terrible humour. And a bit of crack, with a side serving of angst.</p><p>Oh, and memes. And vine references. You have been warned.</p><p>Set in The Other Timeline's universe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner &amp; Thor, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers, Loki &amp; Peter Parker, Loki &amp; Thor (Marvel), Loki &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Shuri, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Shuri &amp; T'Challa (Marvel), Tony Stark &amp; Avengers Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Other Timeline [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>188</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In Which The Science People and a Rather Brilliant Wizard Drive T'Challa Crazy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>He recalled how on the fourth day, Tony had just barged into his cell and dragged a grumpy and reluctant Loki — several papers in his hand and grumbling "Not now, Stark!" irritably — outside and into one of Princess Shuri's many laboratories. For "scientific purposes", as Tony had put it. Tony, Bruce, Princess Shuri and his brother were not to be seen again for several hours.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He had noticed the twinkle in Loki's emerald green eyes when he had finally come out of the lab. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Set between Chapters 3 and 4 of the OG Fic.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."<br/>(Brownie Points to anyone who tells me whose quote that is).</p><p>Ok, I know, I was supposed to post this yesterday. <em> Gasp </em> How could I betray my faithful readers in such a cruel manner?</p><p>This probably should've been chapter 4 of the original fic but I suck at planning.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>“The United States and the former Soviet Union — ”</p><p>Two of the most important political factions on the planet. Both rather volatile. Responsible for almost beginning a nuclear apocalypse according to what he’d gathered on the Cold War. Both of them not on particularly diplomatic terms, even now.</p><p>Loki leaned forward onto the desk, narrowing his eyes, paying keen attention.</p><p> “ — among the four major Allies against the Axis powers during World War II — ” World War II, Loki remembered. Hitler, the Nazis, Germany. His show in Stuttgart had been perfect theatre. </p><p>
  <em> There are always men like you. </em>
</p><p>“ — Following the onset of the Cold War in 1947, the North Atlantic Treaty was signed by the U.S., Canada, and several Western European nations, in Washington D.C. on 4 April 1949, a treaty that established the North Atlantic Treaty Organization(NATO) —” </p><p>And what was <em>that </em>now? </p><p>While he’d dealt with realms with multiple warring factions before on numerous occasions, <em> this </em>level of complexity honestly baffled him. International politics on this planet consisted of layers upon layers of treaties and organizations, ranging from bilateral to global, three-quarters of which had next to no enforcement power but were somehow important nonetheless in their petty power struggles. </p><p>Sighing, he opened another tab and typed NATO on the search engine, clicked the Wikipedia link — and Wikipedia was a marvel, he had to admit — and quickly began perusing the text.</p><p>“— Also called the North Atlantic Alliance, is an intergovernmental <em>military alliance —” Military alliance, </em> he mused. He was right in guessing this one to be of import<em>, “ — </em>between 30 North American and European countries. The Organization implements the —”</p><p> A loud clang of metal. </p><p>Someone was approaching the cell, likely with some sort of weapons if the noise was anything to go by. He closed his laptop and turned swiftly, ready to face whoever it was, just as the door was thrown open.</p><p> And found Stark, donning his armour, looking ready to blast him to smithereens. </p><p>“Is anything the matter?” he asked warily, getting up from his seat.</p><p>“Nah, not really” he replied, tone casual, which didn’t seem to explain the sudden need for armour. “Oh, Pep finally decided to give you a chance, so congrats on that. You’d have the President of the International Criminal Court vouching for you in no time, Bambi.”</p><p>How ironic, he mused, how his former enemy, a man whom he had defenestrated all those years ago, was now ensuring he got a fair trial — skewed in his favour, really, if Stark was a man of his words — while the man he had called father for over a millennium had condemned him to a lifetime of solitary confinement without a second thought; barely bothering to give him a chance to speak in his defence.</p><p>He was grateful for that.</p><p>None of that explained the armour, though.</p><p>“So,” Stark flashed a grin that said ‘you owe me one’; he was here to ask a favour, Loki concluded. “Ready for some science time?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You heard me.”</p><p><em> Of course, </em> he remembered. He’d been doubtful whether he’d really meant it when he’d made that one particular promise, but he should have thought better. Of course, he wanted to know more about his powers.</p><p>“Stark, not now,” he protested. He had more important things to study.</p><p>“No arguments, Reindeer Games.” Stark motioned him to move. “You got people waiting for you.”</p><p>How about no?</p><p>“I will not consent to being your Guinea pig —” Loki protested again. He had no wish to showcase his powers for them to gawk at. </p><p>“Should have kept that in mind when you agreed a few days ago, Merlin.” His faceplate slammed shut, and he raised his repulsors, ready to fire. </p><p><em> Oh, that’s how it was, was it? </em>He manifested his daggers despite having no intention to attack.</p><p>“You’re coming with me.” He grinned maniacally.</p><p>This had been a terrible idea.</p><p>“I am not —” Stark suddenly fired a blast which barely missed him, the bang from it hitting the strong Vibranium walls startling him, “ what do you think you’re —” </p><p>“Consider this a threat,” Stark announced, aiming the repulsor straight at him. </p><p>“Stark, this is senseless.”</p><p>“Who said I had any sense?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Honestly Tony, how did you manage to — actually, scratch that,” Bruce gaped,  “I’m surprised you’re still alive.” </p><p>Loki simply rolled his eyes at the comment. He’d been supremely annoyed by how Stark had practically dragged him to the lab, yes, but he wouldn’t hurt him for that. </p><p>But he desperately wanted to leave, nonetheless. </p><p>He knew how these went, and usually involved either: (a) copious amounts of gawking, gloating and barely veiled insults about how ‘unmanly’ his ‘tricks’ were; (b) the other party trying to find his weaknesses, milking out information that could potentially prove fatal for him in their hands, or improve their own capabilities with seidr; or (c) sadism.</p><p>“I’m Tony Fucking Stark, Brucie, I do what I want.” He had no right to use <em>his </em>line.</p><p>“No, <em> I </em> do what <em> I </em>want,” he corrected, growing ever more impatient.  “ So excuse me, I must lea —”</p><p>“Ah look, you actually managed to drag him here!” he heard the Princess squeal and turned around to see her walking towards them, carrying a beaker in hand. “My newest Broken White Boy!”</p><p>Oh, dear.</p><p>“Do not think for one single second,” Stark turned to look at him dead in the eye, “that you’re getting out of this easily, Rudolph.”</p><p>He should <em>not </em>have agreed to this.</p><p>Loki cast a quick glance around the lab, various shelves and counters with a plethora of intriguing devices and several shelves containing a wide variety of chemicals. From what he could notice, the lab was well provided with all sorts of scientific equipment that could fit indoors. The walls were adorned with Wakanda art similar, but subtly different, to the rest of the palace. Another counter stood out in having a coffee machine and containers stuffed with food,  as well as a large lounging area and a large couch, complete with massive, exorbitantly fluffy-looking pillows.</p><p>He sighed. There really <em>was </em>no getting out of this. “Would you prefer if I —” he cast a glamour over himself, appearing as King T’Challa, “ — stay <em> this </em>way, Princess?”  </p><p>Her jaw dropped. “That. Was. So. Cool.” she asked. “How do you <em> do </em>that?” This was heading for option (a) it seemed. Better than the other two, at least.</p><p>Although, <em> cool</em>, he remembered, was a colloquialism applied to things they <em>liked</em>.</p><p>He now transformed himself into Princess Shuri, mirroring her appearance perfectly. “Just like that.”</p><p>“No, seriously,” she questioned further, her excitement growing. “Is it holographic tech? Will it disappear if I touch you? Can I touch you?”</p><p>“No. And I doubt you will be able to understand it,” he added. “You lack the capabilities to sense and perform magic yourself; it’s like attempting to explain colours to a man born blind.”</p><p>“Hey,” Bruce frowned slightly, “just because a guy can’t <em> see </em> doesn’t mean he can’t study optics.” Loki raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“He means that we ain’t gonna give up, Rudolph,” Stark’s motives, though, seemed inclined towards option (b), which made sense, given that he was an inventor and a former enemy.</p><p>“There’s so damn much I need to know and — okay, okay, let’s start with simulacrums, shall we —”</p><p>“Oh no. We’re doing the telekinesis first.”</p><p>“Guys, how about the whole alien-planet and space elevator thingy?” Bruce suggested. “It’s called the Bifrost, I guess?” Loki rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Huh,” Stark commented. “All I know about astrophysics I learnt in one night,” he moved over to the nearest counter, scanning the myriad devices kept on it thoughtfully. “But you know what?”</p><p>“It’s decided then,” Bruce grinned.</p><p>“Okay Lokes, explain the Universe.”</p><p>“Alright then,” he sighed and began, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “In the beginning, the Universe was created —”</p><p>“This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move?” Stark completed, smirking. </p><p>Loki had no idea if it was supposed to be an allusion to ‘pop-culture’ or something, but readily agreed that a lot of horrible, terrible events could have been avoided had the universe simply not bothered to exist.</p><p>And that launched them off on a tangent in which Loki learnt about this collection of Midgardian tomes called the <em> Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy</em>, which everyone in the room practically seemed to worship. It was, as Stark put it, ‘the very embodiment of chaos’ and ‘absolutely glorious’, and it was generally agreed that Loki would, to quote the Princess, “absolutely lose his shit” on reading it. </p><p>He further learnt that apparently, the Ultimate Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything had been the number forty-two all along.</p><p>When they had finally come back to the intended topic of discussion, Loki tried to explain the workings of the Yggdrasil in layman terms, telling them what every child was taught on Asgard (which, he had always found insufficient to sate his curiosity, by the way) as well as a bit he had independently researched on his travels — to the utter confusion of all present.</p><p>“Uhh, Merlin, all this magic world-tree thing’s cool and all,” Stark interrupted, “but would you care to explain?”</p><p>“That’s what I was doing,” he replied dryly.</p><p>“No, like, without all the metaphors.”</p><p>Loki sighed. These were going to be a trying few hours. </p><p>“How about this,” he suggested, “I have no idea to what extent Midgardian science has progressed, so you define the terminology you use before I continue further.”</p><p>Stark, Shuri and Bruce traded looks for a moment.</p><p>And launched into an excited ramble, all three of them talking about completely different subjects all at once. Bruce was saying something about atoms and a field of science they called ‘quantum mechanics’, while Stark began by describing the work of a certain Albert Einstein, and Princess Shuri was <em>certainly </em>talking about something <em>positively enlightening</em>; too bad she was inaudible over the sound of two <em>babbling, bumbling, baboons. </em></p><p>Once they’d calmed down and decided where to start, Loki had actually been surprised by how much Midgard’s collective scientific knowledge had grown, as well as how close they were to understanding certain phenomena on Asgard’s level. Give them another century, perhaps, and they’d build a Bifrost of their own. He quickly caught on to them, translating their terms to those used by the Aesir, and filing the exact definitions and values of certain ones — and Midgardinan science, he noticed, <em> unlike </em> Aesir knowledge and <em>very much </em>like Dwarven science, was almost <em>obsessively </em>quantitative — scorning at certain rather stupid conventions they’d developed — and there were quite a lot — and suggesting changes where he felt the need to.</p><p>They were in the middle of a discussion about cosmic microwave background radiation and possible methods of detecting what the Midgardians also called dark matter, — which Loki assured them certainly <em>did </em>exist — while glaring at images of a distant galaxy in the infrared spectrum produced by a certain Midgardian telescope called James Webb, when it hit him.</p><p>That was it. The answer to something that had been on his mind for centuries. That was what the Yggdrasil really was: Yggdrasil was nothing but a tracing of the large-scale distribution of dark energy in the Galaxy. And he was pretty sure no one in Asgard — no one alive, at least — had thought of it that way before. Beyond the practical purposes of transport through it, not many had ever known much about the Yggdrasil. He had been casually pursuing the question for centuries but a plausible answer had never really dawned on him. Until now.</p><p>For all that Asgard had prided itself in its knowledge, there had hardly been any innovation or research in the realm for as long as he could remember. Certainly, they had had vast amounts of scientific <em>knowledge</em>, but next to no inkling of the scientific <em> method</em>. Knowledge necessary for day-to-day life was repeated and memorised and passed on as familiar adages; knowledge not deemed necessary for immediate practical purposes sat in the libraries, with next to no one to absorb them. It had, as the Midgardians called it, been in its Dark Ages. </p><p>Realm Eternal, he scoffed internally, more like Realm Stagnant.</p><p>“Hey, you know what?” Bruce randomly interjected, bringing him back from his reverie, “You actually know a lot about astronomy.”</p><p>“You’ll find that after a number of unfortunate sojourns in space, one tends to learn something about it.” Astronomy had been one of his favourite subjects as a child, anyway.</p><p>In the span of half an hour, they were conversing about black holes and Schwarzschild wormholes and improving upon the mathematics for Minkowski spacetimes.</p><p>Any sort of lingering enmity had been overlooked, all annoyance discarded, all thoughts of trying to find an ulterior motive for their actions rendered irrelevant.</p><p>All that mattered right now were the equations on the blackboard, the graphical projections before them, and the barrage of data Stark had gotten them from two organizations called ‘Nasa’ and ‘Cern’, as they busied themselves with discussing Gauge Bosons, solving something known as the ‘Hierarchy Problem’ within their current best model of the Cosmos, and speculating about the existence of gravitons — well, the other three were. Loki was firmly denying it.</p><p>Shuri couldn’t contain her excitement at the idea of testing out the alternate theory, Bruce was so utterly and thoroughly perplexed one would think he’d lived his whole life in a lie.  </p><p>And Stark — for all his proclaimed genius— was honestly just trying his patience at this point.</p><p>“That breaks, what, every single law of physics I know of,” Stark remarked, eyes wide, bewilderment written plainly on his face. “That’s simply not happening.” </p><p>Loki was about to quip back a somewhat caustic remark about their woefully backward notions of the universe when Bruce interrupted, “Come on, Tony! You’re the inventor, I’m the scientist. <em> I </em>make the laws.”</p><p>“Honestly Bruce,” Stark chided playfully, “you and your seven PhDs.”</p><p>“But… our Unified Field Theories!” Shuri groaned something like the hundredth time, “they won’t work without gravitons!”</p><p>“The reason it is so,” Loki continued, “is because you haven’t factored in the existence and influences of... other universes — the Multiverse, I believe you can call it  — into your theories.”</p><p>“<em> What </em>?” Stark questioned. </p><p>“No, you mean the <em> multiverse </em>theory is true?”</p><p>“In a way, yes.”</p><p>“Wait, if the Multiverse theory is true,” Shuri questioned. “Then is there a universe where it’s not?” </p><p>It didn’t work that way, but it was an interesting thought nonetheless. “The theory doesn’t cover paradoxical situations,” he replied.</p><p>“Except in the universe where it does,” Stark added.</p><p>“I think I’m having an aneurysm,” Bruce interjected sarcastically.</p><p>“Hey, Brucie-bear,” Stark turned, “what time would it be in Queens right now?” he asked, changing the subject in a way only he could; that man’s train of thought was an enigma.</p><p>Princess Shuri replied without missing a beat, “About 7 PM. Why though?”</p><p>“Because all of this is too cool and Peter needs to see it.”</p><p>“Who’s Peter?” Bruce questioned.</p><p>“Wait, Peter Parker? We know each other!” The Princess chipped in. “We <em> totally </em>need to get him on vid right now.”</p><p>“Wait, how do you know him?”</p><p>“We met on Discord. We play Minecraft together.” Whatever that was supposed to mean.</p><p>“Yes, call the kid!” The princess did so.</p><p>A picture — a young brunet, certainly not over 15 or 16 years of age in Midgardian terms — appeared on the projection as they waited for this child to pick up the video call. </p><p>To be honest, he did somewhat resemble Anthony Stark.</p><p>“Is he your child, perchance?” Loki questioned, noticing how Bruce shot Stark a confused, but oddly interesting look.</p><p>“He’s <em> not </em>my kid.”</p><p>“He’s called you Dad on more than a few occasions, you know.” Princess Shuri interjected playfully, elbowing the older man. Bruce only looked bewildered. </p><p>“Hey! I <em> don’t </em>have children, okay?” Loki grinned in amusement. Now he knew, he mused, how annoying it was to have ridiculous rumours about one’s nonexistent children flying around. Although, if his reputation as a playboy was anything to go by, he probably dealt with those on a weekly basis. </p><p><em> “Uh, hi!” </em>the lad finally picked up.</p><p>“Hey Kid,” Stark greeted.</p><p><em> “Mr Stark!” </em> he waved, <em> “and Shuri! What are you doing in Wakanda, Mr Stark?” </em></p><p>“A lot, but science stuff, at the moment. There’s someone I need you to meet. Say hi to Big Green over here,” he gestured towards Bruce.</p><p>“OMG is that Bruce Banner!” the child asked, eyes wide with excitement.<em> “Holy shit!” </em></p><p>“Yes,” Bruce sighed resignedly, “ I am the Hul —”</p><p>
  <em> “Like, the greatest physicist of the generation! Sir, you are an icon!” </em>
</p><p>“<em> What </em>?” Bruce asked, perplexed. He was likely not used to being known as anything but the green beast. Loki could sympathize.</p><p>“Okay Kid,” Stark interrupted, “I know you’re not gonna believe this, but there is <em>another </em>absolute genius I want you to meet,” Stark said, referring to him. He’d never admit it, but something fluttered in his chest at the word ‘genius’. “Dude casually demolished the Standard Model of particle physics in the span of an hour.” He gestured towards Loki.</p><p>“Hi,” he responded, not knowing what else to say.</p><p><em> “Hello — wait,” </em> recognition dawned on the boy’s features, and Loki prepared for the inevitable.“ <em> Is that Mr Loki?” </em></p><p>“The one and only,” Stark replied.</p><p><em> “Aren’t you like the one who attacked New York? </em> ” There it was. The fear. The loathing. The hatred.“ <em> Weren’t you supposed to be like, evil?”  </em></p><p>“Bad manners, Kid!” Stark chastised.</p><p>“It varies from moment to moment,” He replied tersely, keeping all emotion out of his face.</p><p>“<em> Okay, so like on a scale of one to ten, one being, I don’t know, I’ll say a bad language word and ten being I’ll murder your puppies, </em> ” he asked, tilting his head in seemingly innocuous interest, <em> “where are you right now?” </em></p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>“... A two, perhaps?”</p><p><em> “Cool! Let me know if it ever gets above a six, okay, Mr Loki?” </em> Peter smiled.</p><p>“ I—” Of all the possible reactions Loki had been expecting, this had <em>not </em>been one. “ Sure.” </p><p>He decided he liked this one.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“So effectively, you’re saying you can <em> control </em>your body’s physiology down to the molecular —”</p><p>“Atomic,” he corrected.</p><p>After a heated — and, if he was being honest, <em> fun </em>— discussion of what Bruce had called ‘quantum cosmology’ — humans, he discovered, loved oxymorons — the two children had gotten more interested in his shapeshifting abilities and they had decided to move over to that. </p><p>Peter and Shuri had been excitable puppies the entire time, jumping with surprise and awe the first time he had shapeshifted into a cat — a form which had subsequently been dubbed ‘Lokitty’ to his amusement.</p><p>Their motives be damned. Honestly, Loki hadn’t had this much fun in, well, centuries.</p><p><em> “Bring forth the spectrometers!” </em> he remembered Stark announcing, <em> “And the interferometers,” </em>as Princess Shuri had skittered away for getting said instruments, gleefully muttering about how they were “finally gonna experiment instead of doing math”.</p><p>“ — Down to the atomic level. And that’s how you change size? By reducing or increasing the distance between atoms? Manipulating atomic radii?”</p><p>“Essentially, yes,” he affirmed.</p><p>They’d run several tests using a plethora of interesting devices — every one of which Loki ached to disassemble and figure out the workings of — graphed results, and witnessed a mini cursing contest between Stark and Bruce when Stark had absentmindedly remarked that he thought biology was not a  ‘real science’ — <em> and oh, was he going to love </em>teaching Stark how to flyte.</p><p><em>“Like Ant-Man?”</em> Peter questioned.</p><p>“We have a Spider-Man <em> and </em>an Ant-Man?” Bruce asked.</p><p>He’d spent a long time explaining the exact mechanism of his shapeshifting and answer a barrage of questions ranging from the scientific — yes, he could change his anatomy at will; yes, of course, that included the proteins, enzymes and hormones his body synthesized; no, his cognitive functions, as well as most of his brain, remained completely unchanged when he transformed into lower organisms  — to the morbid — <em> no</em>, he had <em>not </em>given birth to Sleipnir; and <em>no</em>, he had <em>not </em>sired a wolf or a snake either; honestly, <em> what </em>was wrong with their imaginations? Yes, perhaps, maybe he could <em>hypothetically </em>have done that, but he had <em>no wish </em>to debase himself such —  to the personal  — yes, he had turned into a snake and stabbed Thor when they were the Aesir equivalent of eight; what? It had been a <em> butter </em>knife, for Norns’ sake! </p><p>He was now describing how he managed to change his size when he transformed to smaller or bigger organisms, and it seemed that the mortals — or some of them at least — had figured out how to do that with technology.</p><p>
  <em> “He can technically also grow really big, though.” </em>
</p><p>“Anyway, you were saying?” Stark encouraged him to continue.</p><p>And they <em>listened</em>.</p><p>They paid attention and asked questions and commented and never ceased to show what a surprised Loki had registered as <em>awe </em>instead of <em>scorn. </em> No, they didn’t merely wait for their turn to speak; they didn’t lend an ear because they felt obliged to; no. They listened as if they were actually <em>interested </em>in what he had to say.</p><p>And somewhere along the line, Loki had slowly begun to <em>like </em>talking to them.</p><p><em>“Like, the base DNA doesn’t change. Okay. So, like, this is your natural form, I guess you could call it?</em>” Peter questioned further, <em>“You’re not a 15-feet-tall blue alien in your natural form are you?” </em></p><p>Loki froze.</p><p>Did they know? Had Thor told them what he was? </p><p><em> A monster, </em>a voice graciously reminded. </p><p>Perhaps that’s why they were making the effort to study his abilities, the sceptical voice in his head, one that he’d managed to keep silent until now, finally whispered. To know the enemy they would be facing soon enough, be prepared when he finally lost control.</p><p>“<em> Peter</em>,” Bruce chided, “you can’t just <em>ask </em>someone if they’re a blue alien!” at which Peter mumbled a small apology.</p><p>It could just as well be another popular-culture reference, for all he knew. He’d give them the benefit of the doubt for now.</p><p>“No,” he lied, suppressing any emotion from showing on his features.  “I am <em> certainly not </em>a blue alien.”</p><p>Stark raised an eyebrow at this; he <em>knew</em>, Loki realized — Thor was never very good at keeping his trap shut, anyway — but thankfully, and surprisingly, he might add, he had the sense to keep silent.</p><p>“Be a lot cooler if you were,” Shuri pouted. </p><p><em> What</em>?</p><p>“You do know that you will be unable to replicate my abilities, don’t you?” he questioned, going for a non-sequitur. He needed the change in topic. “Human bodies are not built for seidr wielding.”</p><p>“We don’t have wings either, but we can fly nonetheless,” Stark quipped back.</p><p><em>“And besides, it’s so much fun! Learning new stuff is awesome!”</em> Peter added happily.</p><p>Curiosity, Loki finally realised. It was curiosity. </p><p>He had known, of course. Known that most humans, unlike most Aesir, did not treat the unknown and unexplainable with disregard or contempt, but with interest and enthusiasm. They, when confounded with something new, neither mocked nor ignored it, but instead got to work at understanding it. </p><p>And yet he couldn’t help but still feel astonished that they hadn’t been repulsed by his seidr; no, they were <em>fascinated.  </em></p><p>It was a simple urge to <em>know </em>more that drove them. Nothing more, but nothing less, either.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>As the hours passed by, their interests drifted towards Loki’s ability to manipulate light and matter, and the subject of their discussion ended up being both his telekinesis and his simulacrums simultaneously.  </p><p>Peter, though, had to go offline to attend to matters known as ‘homework’, which was sad, he would admit. He’d liked the boy. He’d always liked children, with their raw, unfiltered curiosity that was common to the young of all sentient species.</p><p>He was currently explaining in detail how he could manipulate photons as well as molecules, change some of their intrinsic properties into causing a wide variety of phenomena; and yes, Princess, yes he <em>could</em> use his telekinesis to slam molecules together with enough pressure to cause nuclear fusion, and yes, that would indeed be ‘badass’ but that would require <em>extreme </em> amounts of energy, you <em>are </em>familiar with the pressures and temperatures required for nuclear fusion, are you not?</p><p>And may or may not have done the mistake of mentioning somewhere that Thor could similarly manipulate electrons to create lightning.</p><p>“About that,” Bruce said, “remind me that we need to get Thor down here somed —”</p><p>“That will be unnecessary,” Loki interrupted before he had a chance to think and swallow his words down. </p><p>The four turned to look at him inquisitively, expecting an explanation. Loki, despite trying not to, flushed slightly before hastily adding, “I can explain his powers sufficiently well to sate your curiosity, and he would never be able to answer your scholarly questions in any case.”</p><p>No need to mention the fact that he desperately didn’t want Thor, Asgard’s<em> Golden Prince, </em> to steal perhaps the only spotlight he’d ever gained, to outshine him like he always did, to hurl him back into his shadows.</p><p>No need to mention that he basked in their attention and intrigue, enjoyed their relentless questions about his abilities, genuinely wanted their open and honest praise.</p><p> No need to mention that he didn’t want Thor to take away the ears of the only people who actually <em>listened</em>.</p><p>“But it’s pointless without direct experimentation,” Princess Shuri pouted, and Loki winced instinctively. “And we need Thor for —” </p><p>But it was only to be expected, he reminded himself. Why would anyone choose <em>him </em>over Thor?</p><p>“No, but he’s right,” Stark interrupted, surprising him. “Thor’s cool and all, but he seriously sucks at sciencey stuff. Believe me, I’m talking from experience.”</p><p>That, Loki knew, was not true. Sure, Loki would be the first to admit that he was smarter than him, but Thor, despite what he often said, was no idiot. He lacked the interest, certainly, but not the acumen. Besides, Thor had still gained the best education in Asgard. He very well <em>could </em>answer any scientific question they threw at him if he wanted to. That was probably how he managed to woo Dr Foster in the first place.</p><p>Stark then turned towards him. “Moreover, I’m pretty sure Merlin here can create more than a few bolts of lightning himself for us to experiment on,” he winked, confusing Loki even further. “Can’t you, Lokes? No need to bring in Thor when we already have the best of the best.”</p><p>Loki blinked. </p><p>Had he heard that correctly? </p><p><em> No need to bring in Thor, </em> his mind slowly repeated, trying in vain to process the words, <em> when we already have the best of the best</em>? Were they referring to him?</p><p>Surely, they must be jesting?</p><p>“Okay. True that” the princess agreed. “Okay, Lokes, have I told you exactly how amazing you are? I don’t really know Thor but I can bet he’s not half as cool are you are. Like, <em> wow </em>.”</p><p>Not the slightest hint of sarcasm in the voice.</p><p>“I —” Words abandoned him for a moment. He hoped no one had seen his utter bafflement. “... Thank you.” </p><p>He suddenly noticed that Stark was eyeing him curiously, and felt himself stiffen.</p><p>“Okay then, let’s get this show on the road. Time for some bio-electrodynamics.” Stark clapped his hands, defusing his sudden tension somewhat. “Curie, get the ammeters and oscilloscopes, will ya? It’s about time we best Volta.” She nodded and skipped towards a shelf on the other side of the lab. “Big Green, get… uh, whatever biological equipment you feel like. I dunno.” Bruce shrugged and walked away, leaving just the two of them there for the moment.</p><p>“Uh, Lokes,” he started in a low voice when both of them were too far away to listen. “You’re not used to much praise, are you?” </p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>Stark was… unusually perceptive, almost as much as the Widow; he had known that. But he’d never expected… Had he dropped his guard <em>so </em>much around them? Had he become <em>that </em>easy to read? </p><p>It was chilling, how correct that was. </p><p>“Whatever do you mean? I was a prince, Stark,” He answered, keeping his tone nonchalant and his expression aloof, even though anger flared in his chest at being read — having a rather deep-seated emotional vulnerability, dare he admit — exposed so easily like that. “One of the things that freely come with the title is adulation.”</p><p>And that was what it always had been. Insincere flattery done in hopes of gaining favours. Nothing more. </p><p>“No, seriously, Loki. Once you’ve become relaxed enough, you practically glow whenever someone says anything nice to you. It’s easy to notice.”  <em> Damn</em>.</p><p>“And why are you telling me this… assessment of yours?” </p><p>“Hey, hey. I’m not Romanoff. I’m not a spy. I’m just trying to reassure you, maybe. You know, I’ve had a feeling that Asgardians were all brawny and muscly and had little appreciation for genius. You were the only nerd on a planet full of jocks, weren’t you?” He replied.</p><p>He glared coldly. “Are you —”</p><p>“Nope, I’m not mocking you. I had an asshole for a dad too. I know how it is, you know, to never be appreciated by people who you care about. It sucks.”</p><p>Loki scrutinised his face for any signs of lying or insincerity, but Stark hid them extremely well.</p><p>Or, dare he hope so, he was being genuine.</p><p>“Listen up, Thor may have always been the more strong and muscly and shiny and golden one out of the two of you, but you, Reindeer Games, you’re like, the smartest person I’ve ever met. Even smarter than me, and that’s saying something. And that’s great, you know.”</p><p>He sounded like he actually meant it.</p><p>“I dunno about Asgard, but we here on puny Earthgard appreciate brains. This,” Stark gestured around, “this is your show, babe.”</p><p>No, he <em>meant </em>it.</p><p>Loki allowed himself to smile a genuine smile.</p><p> </p><p>He wouldn’t be employing rhetorical speech if he said the hours flew by.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>T’Challa had had enough.</p><p>He’d spent the <em>entire </em>day busy in negotiations and preparations for the upcoming UN Assembly, and Gods, he’d hated all of it. All it ever did was give him a headache.</p><p>Why had he agreed to host the Assembly anyway?</p><p>He swore, taking another sharp turn and walking briskly down the corridor leading to another of Shuri’s labs. </p><p>As if all of that wasn’t enough, <em> then </em>there was his dumbass sister ignoring literally all sense and disappearing off into her labs for hours at a time, not even coming out for meals. For perhaps the thousandth time this month.  It had nearly been <em>eleven hours </em>since someone had last seen her outside, for Sekhmet’s sake!</p><p>He’d checked in four other labs already, and he swore to Bast if she was not in this one he was going to murder someone out of frustration.</p><p>“Shuri,” he announced, barging into the lab, “It’s been hours, get out of — ”</p><p>His jaw dropped.</p><p>The lab was utterly and completely <em>trashed </em>— there was no other way to put it. The tables were littered with books, graph paper, and scientific equipment. A heap of broken glass lay below one of the counters, and the room smelled like something — or someone — had been on fire very recently. Someone else might have panicked at the sight, but knowing his sister, all he could feel was annoyance.</p><p>He scanned the lab, trying to find his sister and whoever else she’d victimized with her crazy scientific antics, only to see Shuri sleeping atop a massive makeshift bed of pillows next to the sofa, an empty coffee cup still clutched in her hand, and Bruce and Tony sprawled asleep on opposite ends of the sofa.</p><p>And sleeping in the middle of them, his head on Tony’s shoulder, looking oddly peaceful, was Loki.</p><p>“Oh dear Bast,” T’Challa sighed, “we’ve lost another one.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>... He, of course, did not miss the opportunity of acquiring some top-quality blackmail material.</p><p> </p><p>This has to be the most self-indulgent I have ever written in my life and honestly, I love it.</p><p> </p><p>Stephen Hawking is currently rolling in his grave and I'm not sorry.</p><p>Also, this was trash science. I may be a nerd, but I'm still in school and I have no clue what I'm talking about, aside from what KhanAcademy has most graciously taught to me. The terms I used in the astronomy discussion were all real though.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. That Time Laura Barton Had to Babysit Seven Children (And Let's Not Forget the Cat)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just another day at the Bartons' farm, now with four more chaotic bastards than usual.</p><p>Set after Chapter 10 of the Main Fic.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This shouldn't have taken me so long, but it did anyway. I hope it was worth the wait.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>"Really though,” Sam asked, picking up his glass of juice, “why would anyone name their kid after James Buchanan?”</p><p>Bucky shrugged. Good question. “Dunno, you’ll have to ask my mom about that,” he replied, then picked up another blueberry from his plate, popping into his mouth as the sleeping kitten in his lap lazily buried itself further into his stomach.</p><p>“Seriously,” Barton added, “the only thing anybody knows about James Buchanan is that he failed to stop the Civil War.” Huh.</p><p>From near the kitchen counter, they heard Steve’s loud sneeze.</p><p>“God bless America,” Barton called back, equally loudly.</p><p>“<em> Seriously </em> ?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. Bucky could usually appreciate Captain America-related jokes, but that pun was <em>terrible</em>.</p><p>“The same question could be asked to your parents, Barnes,” Sam countered, as Bucky rolled his eyes in response. “Why would anyone name their kid after the guy who’s only known for failing to stop the Civil War?” He then took another sip.</p><p>“That,” Barton added, using his fork as a pointer, “and the fact that he was most likely gay.”</p><p>Sam choked on his juice like the idiot he was.</p><p>“You all like them?” Steve called as he entered from the kitchen, his hands carrying two plates stacked high with pancakes, and placed them on the dining table. This was everyone’s second helping of pancakes, and by the looks, all of them were going for thirds. At least, Bucky was.</p><p>The one part of being a super-soldier he could never regret — the <em>only </em>part, perhaps — was his increased appetite: it meant getting to eat more of Steve’s cooking.</p><p>“<em>Like </em>them? You kidding me?” Barton said between mouthfuls. “I freaking love them. I’m getting third helpings.”</p><p>“Thanks, but you aren’t. I’d like to leave enough batter for Nate and Laura,” Steve replied, as he headed back to the kitchen to prepare a third serving for them all.</p><p>(He was right, though, Nate and Laura hadn’t come downstairs for breakfast yet, while everyone else in the household was either done eating, or was currently eating.)</p><p>“Seriously, though, Steve,” Clint called out. “Your cooking is <em> great </em>.”</p><p>“Hate to agree with Bird Brain,” Sam reached for the bottle of maple syrup, pouring it on his pancakes, “But he’s right,” he said, as he practically <em>drenched </em>all of his pancakes and filled the entire plate with maple syrup.</p><p>“Don’t you think you’re putting too much?” Barton pointed out, frowning.</p><p>“I am,” he retorted, putting the cap back on and placing the bottle down, “You got a problem?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s <em>too much </em>maple syrup,” Barton replied. “What’s this, <em> Canada</em>?”</p><p>“Listen, Bird Brain,” Sam replied, “until you find out a way to turn Liberty into a pancake syrup, you gotta deal with it.” </p><p>“Sam, you literally poured like, half the bottle,” Bucky observed, picking up another blueberry to pop it into his mouth. “You’re gonna die of diabetes like the true American you are.”</p><p>“And it’ll fucking slap,” he replied, cutting out a piece. “Now let me eat in peace or I’m never bringing any of you Mom’s cookies again.”</p><p>While he’d never had them himself, the absolutely appalled look on Barton’s face probably meant they were objects to be coveted, so Bucky shut up and shrugged helplessly as Sam shoved a large piece absolutely <em>dripping </em>with maple syrup into his mouth.</p><p>“Steve, and I mean this,” called out Sam loudly through a mouthful of pancakes, “marry me.”</p><p>In reply, Bucky shot him a deadly, piercing glare, the meaning behind which the author wishes to leave open to interpretation.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Somewhere, a certain Wade Winston Wilson sneezed loudly.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“No, thanks,” Steve replied from the kitchen counter, mixing the batter for another batch of those absolutely heavenly pancakes. </p><p>“No seriously,” Barton said, also picking up another piece. “These things are glorious.”</p><p>Really, Steve’s cooking had always been great, a skill he learnt from his mom — and she could make even trashy Depression food edible<em>, </em> and <em> God</em>, especially the apple pies, <em> thank you </em> Sarah Rogers — but <em>this</em>? </p><p>This <em>was </em>glorious. This was perfection.</p><p><em> God</em>, he had missed these.</p><p>Alpine, who had been sleeping comfortably in his lap for the past half an hour or something, stirred a bit. His ears then perked up, and he sniffed.</p><p>He turned in his lap to face him, tilting his head curiously, then shot him a look that clearly stated, <em> “I require sustenance, servant” </em> at which Bucky fed him the last piece of his pancakes. </p><p>The greedy look in his eyes meant he definitely wanted more, but Bucky had had his fill, as proof of which he showed him his empty plate.</p><p>Understanding the message, sneakily and soundlessly Alpine leapt from Bucky’s lap onto the table, and scanned the other plates with a mischievous glint in his eyes, looking for his target. Bucky mentally snorted as he noticed the kitten’s eyes zeroing in on Sam’s plate.</p><p>Oh, this was going to be <em>glorious. </em></p><p>Then, in one swift flash of feline movement, Sam’s last piece of pancake disappeared from his plate.</p><p>“Wha — ” Sam uttered a cry of shock, “my pancake!”</p><p>A satisfied meow from the floor beside his chair was answer enough.</p><p>“What the <em>hell</em>, Alpine?” he questioned angrily, turning to face the kitten on the floor, who by now had already gobbled up the pancake and was licking all that extra maple syrup his paws, satisfied. </p><p>(Maple syrup was probably bad for cats, he noted. <em> Gotta make sure he doesn’t develop a liking to it or anything </em>.)</p><p>“Meow,” replied Alpine innocently.</p><p>“Okay,” he admitted, “but next time there will be consequences.”</p><p>“Meow,” replied Alpine innocently.</p><p>Wilson sighed a long-suffering sigh. “You’re right, probably not.”</p><p><em> God, </em>he was proud of the kitten.</p><p>“See, this is why I think the cat is evil,” Barton said, trying his best to contain a laugh and very close to failing. </p><p>And this was why he’s always wanted a cat: they were just as downright amusing as a Steve Rogers and nowhere near as high maintenance.</p><p>“No, you think the cat is evil ‘cause you’re a <em> bird</em>, Bird Man,” Bucky replied, chuckling. Hawk’s eye or not, Clint Barton <em>definitely </em>had a pigeon’s brain.</p><p>“Caw caw, motherfucker.”</p><p>“Steve, a bad language word has been said!” Sam announced. “Say <em> ‘Language’!” </em>he added sarcastically.</p><p>“It was <em> one fucking time </em>!” Steve shouted back as he flipped another cake on the pan.</p><p><em> What </em>was ‘one fucking time’, though?</p><p>“Do I hear <em> swearing </em> ?” Cooper announced immediately from the couch several feet away, where he sat playing on his Switch. “On <em> my </em>Christian Minecraft server?”</p><p>Bucky snorted.</p><p>“What,” asked Sam, confused, at the same time Clint asked, “what,” also confused.</p><p>“It’s a meme,” explained Bucky, not confused.</p><p>You know what, maybe taking Shuri’s help in adapting to the Twenty-First century had <em>not </em>been such a good idea after all. Very not <em> Stonks </em>of him indeed.</p><p>“Ah, I see you’re a man of culture, Mr Barnes,” Cooper replied back, smirking. </p><p>“What are you even talking about?” asked a very confused Steve, appearing from the kitchen with another batch of pancakes. He was right, Steve <em>did </em>end up making them a third serving after all.  Really, you praise him enough, and he’d cook you anything, anytime, anywhere.</p><p>“That I am,” Bucky replied to Cooper, grinning. Then, picking up two pancakes from where Steve had placed them on the table and taking a large bite: “Unlike a certain Steve Rogers, whose <em> only </em>redeeming quality is his cooking.” </p><p>And his <em>literal </em>golden retriever personality, his stupid grin, his absolutely <em>beautiful </em>art skills, and even his idiotic tendencies to get into trouble, but Bucky wasn’t gonna admit that out loud.</p><p>“You can’t even claim <em>that</em>, Buck,” Steve retorted, grinning. It was true, though. The only thing he could make properly was toast.</p><p>“But I <em> can </em> make memes, unlike you, old man.” Courtesy of spending a third of a year with Shuri as her favourite ‘Broken White Boy’, of course (and <em>damn</em>, he had a feeling she was going to start a collection of those or something).</p><p>“What the <em> fuck </em>just happened?” Barton asked, confused at their antics. </p><p>That was when a ball appearing out of literally nowhere hit Barton on the head, catching Alpine’s attention as it bounced off and rolled away; whose ears perked up as he got up and ran towards it silently. </p><p>Bucky watched as he followed it around for a few seconds, letting friction slow it down, then took a swift leap to catch it between his paws, letting out a satisfied mew.</p><p>Meanwhile, amongst the lesser beings: “Ow!” Barton protested loudly, looking around for the guilty person. “What the —”</p><p>“You heard him, no swearing on our Christian Minecraft server,” Lila, appearing from literally nowhere, announced, a smug, self-satisfied look on her face. “Got it, <em> Father </em>?”</p><p>“<em>This </em>is why I regret teaching this girl archery,” Barton complained. “Little shit got impeccable aim and doesn’t hesitate to use it.”</p><p>In reply, she just stuck her tongue out and disappeared.</p><p>“Forget that,” Bucky said, turning towards Sam. “Tell me the ‘Language’ joke. I don’t get it.”</p><p>They did.</p><p>It was, simply put, <em> treasonous</em>. </p><p>“You,” Bucky shot Steve an icy glare, because <em> what the hell</em>, <em> Rogers </em> ? “used to have one of the most foul mouths in existence, <em> Rogers </em>.”</p><p>Oh, this was <em>betrayal</em>. </p><p>This was a <em> disgrace </em>to the memory of the Howling Commandos, a disgrace to the memory of Jaques Dernier and his unparalleled creativity with curses, a disgrace to the memory of James "Bloody Fuckin' Hell" Falsworth, a disgrace to the memory of Jim "Unlike You Fuckers, I'm a Polite Person" Morita.</p><p>A <em> disgrace</em>, that’s what it was.</p><p>(He missed them. <em> All </em>of them.)</p><p>“Wait <em> what </em> ?” Sam questioned, bewildered. “He… <em> what </em>?”</p><p>Steve —  that <em>asshole </em>— was suddenly extremely interested in the wall in front of him.</p><p>“<em>Steven</em> <em>Grant Rogers</em>, look at me,” he ordered, voice cold and commanding. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me what happened to you, <em>Rogers</em>.”</p><p>Steve awkwardly turned to face him, blushed a bit and shrugged helplessly, mumbling, “they had expectations.”</p><p>Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and he shot him a positively murderous glare.</p><p>“Um, explain?” Barton asked him. “Cap… <em> swore</em>? A <em> lot </em>?”</p><p>“Of course he swore a shit ton, <em> didn’t </em>you, <em> Rogers </em>?” he asked, glaring daggers at him. To Sam and Barton, he explained, “we were all army, what did you expect?” Really, they had walked so Gen Z’s hilarious Tumblr insults curses run.</p><p>“But why the hell does he have a problem with Bad Language Words, then?” Clint asked.</p><p>The murderous glare increased in intensity.</p><p>“It was <em>one </em>time,” Steve mumbled apologetically. </p><p>“Meow,” replied Alpine, the ball between his paws, shooting Steve a disappointed look.</p><p>“I raised you better than this, <em> Rogers </em> .”</p><p>Okay, that was probably a lie. Not the <em> ‘raise’ </em> part, of course; the ‘<em>better than this </em> ’ part. He remembered the car they’d both managed to ‘<em>borrow’ </em>when they had been sixteen. It had been one <em>hell</em> of a ride, both literally and figuratively.</p><p>“You didn’t <em> raise </em> me, <em> Barnes</em>.”</p><p>Said the guy who used to get beat up in back alleys so often it was almost as if it was his way of marking his territory, to the guy who’d ended up teaching himself professional boxing and mixed martial arts so he could beat up the former guy’s bullies. Yeah, right.</p><p>“<em>Reckless </em>is your middle name, asshat,” he replied somewhat fondly, smiling internally at all the stupid shit those eighty pounds of Freedom and Righteousness used to pull. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.” God, those memories.</p><p><em> Memories</em>.</p><p>How many times?</p><p>How many times over the years had he begun to regain some of his old memories, remember some semblance of who he used to be, who he had <em>lost</em>, only for everything to be wiped out, all his links to himself snatched from him again, and again, and again, and again?</p><p>How many moments, when he felt like he would’ve gladly <em>killed — willingly — </em>  just to regain some <em>tiny </em>piece of his old life again, to see <em> Steve </em>again before they put his brain back into that blender?</p><p>And now he had him, he couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last before it was snatched away <em>yet again</em>. </p><p>“Touche,” Steve replied, chuckling.</p><p>But until then.</p><p>Until then, he’d cherish every moment of it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Now, the real question is, which one of you boys is doing the dishes?” questioned Laura. “I’ve got stuff to do.”</p><p>“Not me, obviously.” Bucky raised his left shoulder, bringing attention to his missing arm. Although he would be able to do a decent job of the chore with one hand (well, if he could operate sniper rifles with one hand, of course, he could do the dishes), but why do it?</p><p>“Two can play that card,” Barton agreed, signing <em> ‘Not me either’.  </em></p><p>“Being born deaf has nothing to do with washing the dishes, Barton,” pointed out Sam.</p><p>‘<em>I don’t care, bitch,</em>’ he signed back.</p><p>“Don’t look at me,” Steve said, raising his hands in refusal and grinning smugly, “Senior citizen here.”</p><p>“Meow,” agreed Alpine, which probably meant, “<em> I am above such measly work </em>” or something equally catty, as he jumped onto the couch, picked a spot, and lay down for a nap. God, he loved cats.</p><p>“Which leaves…”</p><p>“Me,” Sam sighed. “<em> Fuckers </em> . All right, I’ll do it, but there <em>will </em> be payback,” he got up from the couch and headed towards the undeniably <em>massive </em>pile of dishes next to the sink, all of it Steve and his delicious cooking’s fault.</p><p>“Thanks, Sam,” said Laura, disappearing almost immediately. </p><p>“Speaking of which,” Cooper announced, entering the room with a bunch of books in hand, “uh, Dad, can you help out with this?” he waved the books around, “I have a history test tomorrow.”</p><p>“Right now, kid? Who the hell studies so early during the day?” Barton groaned. The answer to which of course was: people who had shit to do, unlike <em>you</em>, Bird Brain. “And besides, I’m busy.” </p><p>“Busy lying on the couch watching television, that is,” Steve said, lying on the couch watching television. </p><p>“Yeah? How ‘bout you ask the Man Out of Time, Kid?” he countered, pointing at Steve. “<em>He’s </em> history.”</p><p>“You overestimate him, Barton,” announced Bucky. “Just because he is history doesn’t mean he can teach someone history.”</p><p>“You know what? I think I can manage,” Steve countered, sitting up straighter and turning towards Cooper. “What period? The War of Independence? Civil War? The World Wars?”</p><p>“And he probably only knows American history because all he’s done since being thawed is visit museums and memorials,” Barton added. “Amirite?” </p><p>It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t have done the same, if he could have. HYDRA had taken even that tiny privilege from him.</p><p>“Shut up, museums are nice places,” Steve countered. Bucky would have to agree. “And I visit natural history museums just as often as historical ones.” </p><p>“That’s because you belong there, <em> fossil</em>,” Bucky retorted nonetheless. </p><p>A hundred years. That’s how old they both were. God.</p><p>“You’re <em>older </em>than me, you goddamn Megaloceros,” Steve replied.  </p><p>“Your army enlistment form would like to claim otherwise.” </p><p>Yeah, stick figure Steve had not only recklessly decided to join the army but also lied on his enlistment form. God, what an idiot he’d been. </p><p>Correction: still was.</p><p><em> God </em>, could he ever have imagined back then — when his only concerns had been paying his bills and keeping that guy from breaking his bones in a fight — that what he’d be today?</p><p>“Uh,” Cooper interrupted, “if both of you’re done insulting each other <em> — </em> which is honestly very entertaining, to be honest <em> — </em> it’s Cold War history, actually.”</p><p>“He <em> slept </em>through the whole fiasco,” Barton sighed, picking up the remote and switching the TV off as he straightened up. “Damn. You’re never gonna let your Dad relax, are you?”</p><p>“Oh God, what even is this,” Bucky said, annoyed. “All right, <em> I’ll </em>help you.” </p><p>“Didn’t you sleep through it too?” asked Cooper, frowning.</p><p>“Only mostly,” he corrected. He’d been there for — caused, more like — a decent chunk of the historic shit. “And I’m smarter than him.”</p><p>“<em> Hey</em>,” Steve said, clearly not remembering the sheer number of times he’d gotten into fights with blokes twice his size, jumped off planes without parachutes, that one time he'd tried to eat noodles through the nose on a dare, and who knows what else.</p><p>“Telling us that you’re smarter than Steve Rogers doesn’t say much, you know,” replied Barton, ignoring him.</p><p>“Why am I always the target?” asked Steve, frustrated.</p><p>“I still know more about the Cold War than him, though,” said Bucky, ignoring him. “Ask me something, I’ll prove it.”</p><p>“All right,” announced Barton, clapping his hands together, “question round with Barnes and Noble —”</p><p>“<em>Barnes</em> <em>and Noble</em>, <em>seriously</em>?” Steve questioned.</p><p>“Would you prefer <em> Starbucks</em>, Mr Iced Americano?” Barton asked.</p><p>“This is <em>it,” </em> a flustered Steve announced loudly, getting up from the couch. <em> “ </em>I’m leaving.”</p><p>“<em> That</em>, though,” said Cooper, twirling a pencil and ignoring Steve, who by now had already left the room, “sounds like a perfect ship name for —”</p><p><em> Ohkay</em>, that was it.</p><p>“— Kid.” Bucky lifted a finger, his voice firm. Unquestionable. “<em> Don’t </em>.”</p><p>“<em> Don’t </em> what?” Barton questioned nonetheless.</p><p>“None of your business, Bird Brain.” He sent him the Winter Soldier glare, one that said ‘ask me again and the only answer you’ll get is a knife to the gut.’ Yeah, he regretted being introduced to the internet by Shuri.</p><p>“Anyway, question round —”</p><p>“Mr Steve left, though,” Cooper pointed out.</p><p>“<em>I'm </em>playing,” replied Barton. </p><p>“What do we get if we win?” asked Bucky.</p><p>“I dunno, I have like, 69 cents,” said Cooper immediately. “You know what that means?”</p><p>“Yeah,” sighed Bucky, “not enough money for chicken nuggets.” Quoting Vines was still fun, though. </p><p>“What?” Barton questioned, sending them all a confused look. Quoting Vines was fun especially around those who didn’t know them and then started questioning their life’s choices when they realized that a hundred year old knew more about popular internet culture than they did.</p><p>“They’re Vine references, you uncultured swine,” replied Bucky, with an expression of mock disgust. </p><p>“I’m never getting to study history today, am I?” Cooper sighed. “Literally all I want one of you to do is ask me a bunch of trivia to see if I’ve memorised it properly or not.”</p><p>“Right. Question round. Um.” </p><p>“That’s not what <em> — </em> oh hell, this is gonna be fun.” Cooper considered. “Uh...” he thought, “what year did the Cuban Missile Crisis happen?”</p><p>“I think I read that one somewhere,” said Barton, wracking his empty head for nonexistent Cold War trivia. “Damn, I should know this.”</p><p>“Basic. 1962. The Russians call it the Caribbean Crisis,” Bucky answered. It had also been the longest time HYDRA had allowed him out of cryo, and that was as a <em> precautionary measure</em>. Hadn’t been a fun two weeks. “Next.”</p><p>“That is correct. I had faith in you, you know Dad?” Cooper sighed. “Next one, I dunno... who assassinated JFK?”</p><p><em> Me</em>, Bucky answered to himself, biting his lip.</p><p>“Oh, I know that.” Barton piqued up. “Uh... Lee Harvey Oswald, right?”</p><p>
  <em> A bullet straight through the neck and then into another’s shoulder, then one more, a perfect shot, into the head; screams of the lady beside him — </em>
</p><p>“Not true,” Bucky corrected. “Lee Harvey Oswald did not assassinate Kennedy. He was falsely framed, and the assassination was a part of a larger KGB-HYDRA conspiracy.”</p><p>“Wait, what, seriously? Then <em> who </em> did?” Barton questioned, raising an eyebrow. “ <em> You </em> <em>?</em>”</p><p>Well, along with dozens of other political figures, military generals, and instrumental scientists, <em> yeah </em>. </p><p><em> Maria Stark’s choked sobs as a hand — his </em> own <em> hand — wrapped around her throat, her cries echoing in the abandoned bunker, and Tony Stark’s eyes widening at the realization that his parents had been </em>murdered <em> — </em></p><p><em> “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, </em> did <em> you </em> know <em> ?” </em></p><p>
  <em> A guilty ‘yes’ that had broken it all. </em>
</p><p>“Mind your own business, Barton,” he replied tersely, hoping that his sudden discomfort was well hidden.</p><p>Thankfully, neither of them was paying attention. “RIP my education,” Cooper sighed.</p><p>“Good test scores ain’t education, kid,” Bucky countered, thankful for a change in topic. “For fuck’s sake, I’d expected the American education system to <em> improve </em>in eighty years.” Seriously, it had probably gotten worse, hadn’t it?</p><p>“Yep,” agreed Barton, looking for an excuse to return to watching TV, “grades don’t matter, Cooper.”</p><p>“Yes they do,” said Cooper in the long-suffering, exasperated tone of a stressed-out high schooler. Some things didn’t change in eighty years, apparently.</p><p>“No they don’t,” said Barton, “Look at Captain America, I’m willing to bet <em> he </em>never got straight A’s.” He almost never did, in fact.</p><p>“Barton,” Bucky sighed a long-suffering, exasperated sigh of a guy too tired yet somehow still strangely fond of his best friend’s reckless bullshit. “If there is <em> one </em> person you <em> don’t </em>want your kids to idolize, it’s Steven Grant Rogers.”</p><p>“Why th —”</p><p><em> “ </em>Papa!!” A loud voice abruptly rang through the hallway as an excited Nathaniel dashed into the room, clutching a paper in hand. “Look! I made you!!” he announced as he leapt straight into Barton’s lap.</p><p>“Hey, little guy!” replied Barton as he returned the hug equally enthusiastically.</p><p>“Papa! I made you! Look!” He enthusiastically waved the paper in his hand, which Barton gently took from the three-year-old to have a look at.</p><p>It was the drawing of a pigeon.</p><p>Bucky snorted just as Barton let out an exasperated sigh and then started laughing, whereas Cooper outright wheezed.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s exactly how he looks like,” Bucky said with a massive grin, “Great job.”</p><p>“I know!” Nate exclaimed, a proud, self-satisfied (and extremely adorable) smile lighting his face, as he grabbed back his paper. “Nate is best drawer!”</p><p>“The correct reply is ‘thanks’, idiot,” Cooper corrected jokingly. “And ‘artist’ is the word you’re looking for.”</p><p>“You really should have Uncle Steve teach you, kid,” Barton added, chuckling. “These are <em> good </em>.”</p><p>Then: “Purrr..” From the other side of the couch, Alpine stirred, slowly getting up and stretching its tiny legs.</p><p>“<em>Kitty </em>!” Nate exclaimed, hurriedly handing over the paper in his Dad and scrambling towards the kitten, who greeted him with a soft mew.</p><p>It was all… <em>strangely domestic</em>, it hit him. No war, no mission, no being on the run, even. Right now, it was just him, his best friend, his kitten, two guys with bird brains, a mother, and her three absolutely adorable kids.</p><p>He was <em>happy</em>, he realized.</p><p><em> How long this time</em>, inevitably came the question. How long would he get this time, before it was all taken from him, as it had happened again and again and again and <em>again</em>, like clockwork?</p><p>How long would this happiness last?</p><p>Was it too much to ask for a little <em>more</em>?</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Of course, not long after, catastrophe struck.</p><p>Or, more accurately, catastrophe struck for Sam and Barton. </p><p>Bucky, on the other hand, had honestly never had a harder time not cracking up with laughter.</p><p>“Piink!” exclaimed Nathaniel, carefully examining the variety of colours in the box, as Bucky and Cooper finished up using <em>slightly questionable </em>methods we shall not be elaborating on, to ensure the compliance of their victims. “We gonna do their nails pink!”</p><p>“<em>Oh </em> God no,” Clint pleaded, visibly wracking his head for excuses, desperately looking for a way out. There, Bucky had ensured, was none.</p><p>“Why is <em> Barnes </em>on their side though?” Sam groaned, shooting him a glare, which Bucky returned with equal intensity. “Why the biased treatment?”</p><p>“That’s because,” he held up his hands to show the impeccably done black nail paint on his nails, “I already got mine done, dumbass.” </p><p>Despite his earlier misgivings, the session with Lila had been <em>fun</em>, actually. And it wasn’t as if Shuri had never tied his hair into ponytails or painted his nails before, or that he hadn’t particularly disliked the rigid dressing norms of his time.</p><p>“We gonna make them look like a <em> pincess </em>!!” Nate exclaimed again.</p><p>“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do,” Lila agreed, a downright evil smile on her face. She then turned to Nate, saying, “Lemme help you with choosing the colours, kid.”</p><p>“Meow,” Alpine, who was brushing affectionately at Bucky’s feet, agreed. </p><p>“Laura, <em> please… </em>” Barton turned to her, practically begging. “Save us.”</p><p>“No thanks, I’d rather not,” she replied from where she sat on the dining table, chuckling. “This is quality entertainment.”</p><p>“Mom, can we also go for your makeup?” Lila asked, her devilish grin only growing.</p><p>“Sure, sweetie,” she replied innocently, “I’ll help you out if you need it.”</p><p>“I hate all of you,” Barton protested again.</p><p>“And just for that,” Lila picked one bottle up, and Barton’s eyes went wide immediately, “you, Dad, are getting <em> glitter pink.” </em></p><p>Barton groaned.</p><p>“I’m still not sure for Uncle Sam, though,” Lila added, eyeing the box of nail paint in her hands. “Cooper, you got an opinion?”</p><p>“Nah, I’ll let you do the choosing, I’m only here to laugh,” he replied. “And maybe — ” he took out a phone from his pocket — “collect some top quality blackmail material, perhaps?”</p><p>“Oh God no,” he could’ve sworn Barton’s face went a shade paler.</p><p>“All of it goes to Auntie Nat,” he added smugly.</p><p>“Oh <em> God no</em>.”</p><p>“Where is Steve when you need him?” Sam questioned.</p><p>“Right here,” came the reply as Steve entered from the kitchen, wearing Laura’s pink apron and looking adorable in it, and valiantly trying not to laugh. “And I’m on their side, for the record.”</p><p>“Why the hell is <em> he </em> exempt from this?” Sam protested. “Why are you not being turned into a freaking <em> ‘pincess’ </em>?”</p><p>“Because it was his idea,” Bucky replied, trying not to choke on his laughter, and failing. This was absolutely <em> hilarious </em> . Steve really could be one <em>genius </em>bastard when he wanted to. </p><p>“And also because I’ve never had better pancakes before,” Lila replied, feigning an innocent expression.</p><p>“Yeah!” Nate agreed, bubbling with excitement. “Pancakes!!” </p><p>
  <em> Just wait until you eat his apple pies. </em>
</p><p>“Excuse you, <em> I </em>make all the money in this household,” Clint pointed out indignantly. “All of you are freeloaders.”</p><p>“But can you cook as good, though?” Lila questioned, picking up another bottle of nail paint, seemingly unable to decide what colour to go for for Sam’s nails. “Because in the end, that’s all that matters.” </p><p>True enough.</p><p>“Sweet, sweet revenge…” Steve muttered, grinning wildly as he walked over to where Laura was sitting and pulled up a seat, ready to enjoy the show.</p><p>It was really the most hilarious thing ever, and that was counting the time he’d talked Steve into actually asking that blonde out, and her reaction had been <em>pure gold</em>.</p><p><em> Maybe not this time, </em> a corner of his mind hoped. Maybe it all <em>wouldn’t</em> be snatched away after a few fleeting moments. </p><p>“Traitors, every single one of you,” Clint squawked indignantly. It was something Morita would’ve said, Bucky thought.</p><p>He would never get back the family he’d lost, certainly. But maybe, just <em>maybe</em>, he’d get to keep everyone he’d gained this time.</p><p>“Meow,” Alpine countered, which probably meant ‘<em> Have a care how you speak, peasant.’ </em>Perhaps he’d get to see the little ball of fluff he’d gotten just yesterday and already fallen in love with becoming a big, evil cat.</p><p>“This is <em>unfair</em>,” Sam echoed. “What am <em> I </em> being punished for?” Perhaps he’d get more chances to annoy this <em>other </em>idiot he’d gotten to befriend.</p><p>“<em>Life </em>is unfair, Bird Brain No. 2,” replied Steve, smirking, in one of his rare moments of savagery. “Get over it.” </p><p>Maybe, <em> maybe </em>he’d get to spend more moments with Steve.</p><p>Was a little more of it too much to ask for? Maybe. Maybe it was. Maybe it would always be, for him.</p><p>Would he still dare to ask for it? You <em>bet</em>.</p><p>“‘Nuff talking!” Nate exclaimed, bringing Bucky’s attention back to the events before him. “<em>Pincess </em> time!” </p><p>“Please,” begged Sam one more time, eyeing the rapidly approaching four-year-old with a glittering turquoise nail paint bottle with genuine fear in his eyes, “I will seriously do <em>anything</em> you want me to do.”</p><p>“Then perish,” Cooper replied.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>By the way, both Barton and Sam did, indeed, make good <em> ‘pincesses’</em>.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Shit, the Stucky is really showing, isn't it? </p><p>(Pssst: I've just had this absolutely <em>evil</em> idea involving Steve and Bucky that is definitely popping up in like twenty or so chapters in the main fic, and I'm pretty sure some of y'all are gonna kill me for it, but death won't stop me ehehe)</p><p>(Pssst: That idea of mine makes this chapter's angst important to the plot)</p><p>(Pssst: I'm changing the Archive warning to "Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings" for evil reasons of my own)</p><p>I know, Laura is barely there in this chapter, but the title's still fun, ain't it?</p><p>How I managed to make this chapter sorta angsty is beyond me, but I managed it anyway, you're welcome. I think I basically own the Crack and Angst tag now.</p><p>Nowhere near enough angst compared to the last chapter, but Bucky is well into the recovery stage now, whereas Loki is barely starting, so *shrugs*</p><p>I love writing Clint!fam.</p><p>I love Bucky and Alpine.</p><p>I legit looked up 2017/early 2018 memes for this.</p><p>I know, the chicken nugget Vine probably didn't exist in 2018. I don't care.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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